Man in the Mirror
by csipal
Summary: Is loneliness a choice or destiny? Chapter Two added.
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: It isn't mine. Period.

Thanks to my betas for this chapter, Nessa and Laura Katherine. Those two, along with Marlou, are great motivators and friends!

This is a response to mossley's Unbound Challenge. First and last line provided and within 1000 words.

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_Grissom froze suddenly; the growl was soft, but dangerous, and coming from below his waist__. Slowly, he lowered his head to locate the source of the threat but all he saw were the tops of his feet and the ground below. His heart was beating fast and his breathing was wild but the need to keep going intensified. One foot in front of the other, he picked up his pace and resumed running._

_The miles of road that stretched out ahead of him were flat and barren. There were no twists or turns, no forks or bypasses – just an empty road that, anxiousness aside, gave him comfort. There would be no decisions, no obstacles, and no surprises._

_The growl came again, this time louder and from above his head. Not taking time to stop, he glanced up at the sky, seeing nothing but a large expanse of gray that ended stretched to the horizon. Still frightened, but secure in his destination, he ran faster._

_The third and final time was from behind. He slowed as he turned his head, shocked at what he saw. The road behind him was no longer straight, but curvy, and the sky was bright. He came to a complete stop and took a closer look at the road he'd already traveled. It had several turns and intersections he didn't see before and he felt a twinge of regret for missing them the first time._

_A game of tug of war was going on in his soul at that moment – curiosity verses security. Curiosity won but as he took the first step toward bluer skies, the road began to disappear. Desperate to catch up to the path that was quickly fading, he began to full out run. The faster he ran, the quicker the road faded and the skies turned to gray._

_The stitch in his side and the pain in his chest were what finally stopped him. He took deep breaths to help ease the ache in his oxygen deprived lungs while he watched all of those missed opportunities diminish before him._

_Just as he breathing was back to normal and his pulse resumed its normal pace, a hand settled on his shoulder from behind. The sudden intrusion startled him and he turned to face the hand's owner…_

Grissom shot up out of his bed, panting. Sweat poured from every gland in his body, soaking him and his sheets. His fingers instinctually reached up and lightly pressed against his carotid artery. Grimacing at the results, he laid back down, following the same breathing techniques he exercised in the dream that haunted him every day this week.

There was no question in his mind what the dream meant. Never had he dreamed of something so direct and so frightening that every morning he woke up in the same cold sweat, gasping for air as if his life depended on it.

Shivering as the chill from his sweat was taking hold, Grissom rose and stripped his bed of the damp sheets and then stripped himself of his clothes. The hot, relaxing spray of his showerhead beckoned and the need to warm his body and soul was great.

Depositing the pile of dirty laundry in front of the laundry room door, he made his way to the bathroom. The squeak of the shower knobs as he started his shower sent a new wave of chills through his body and he adjusted the water to an even warmer temperature, filling the small room up with steam.

Stepping into the shower, Grissom closed his eyes as the hot water and steam blanketed his body. The shampoo and soap remained untouched as his mind wandered back to his dream, or rather, his life. He knew that there were roads or opportunities that he turned down along the way. Some he regretted and some he didn't, but what worried him now was the possibility that he missed some choices he didn't know he had.

At forty-eight he had a house to come home to but not a home to live in; an occupation he loved but a job he despised and … bugs. Lots of bugs. Bugs on his wall, bugs in his books, bugs on tape and DVD and in magazines. Jim and Catherine became more colleagues than friends - more his doing than theirs. The same went for Warrick, Nick, and … Sara. Sara was different. Sara became more of a stranger than anything else. He knew the reason was his taking a left turn instead of a right somewhere along the way.

Suddenly the shower became too small and the air too thick as he wondered how many roads were happiness and how many were Sara and if the two were synonymous.

He quickly exited the shower, finding that it was no longer the haven he craved and grabbed his towel. Roughly rubbing the towel over his head and face and then the rest of his body, Grissom caught his hazy reflection in the mirror. He wiped the glass clean and stared down the man before him.

The man he saw in his dream.

A tired and lonely man. One that constantly hurts others – including himself. A man who deep down misses the camaraderie of his team and longs for after-shift breakfasts at the diner. A man that loves but fears his heart just as much as he fears hers. A man who misses his own smile.

"You're alone," he whispered to the man in the mirror. **"How did this happen?**"


	2. Chapter Two

A/N- Oh goodness. I sure hope that I don't regret adding on to this fic. I intended it to be a couple of chapters then I decided against it and then … _Snakes_ happened. So, like many others, I had to write about it.

Oh goodness. I sure hope that I don't regret adding on to this fic. I intended it to be a couple of chapters then I decided against it and then … happened. So, like many others, I had to write about it. 

Thanks to **Marlou** for her beta work and the bruises that your prodding stick left me with ;)

Also guys, drop a line to my good friend **Nessa** who is juggling three sick kiddies while being sick herself! I hope you feel better!

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Grissom closed his eyes and sighed, listening to the staccato drip of his tub's faucet. He grew up cherishing each sound, understanding the gift of hearing but today he needed silence. The tapping was making him anxious and distracted. He just wanted it to stop.

He didn't expect an answer and honestly, he didn't need one. Opening his eyes, he looked into the blue ones reflected in front of him and knew that the days of denial were over. He was alone because he chose to be. No more hiding. No more excuses.

Grissom ran a weary hand over his face, wondering if it was just as easy to choose not be alone. Suddenly he felt tired and old. His nightmare had haunted him for too long and even though his heart was ready and willing, his body was exhausted and in need of a good night's sleep. Perhaps then he'd be ready to take another step forward.

He firmly secured his towel around his waist and went through the motions of his daily ritual; his rest would come later. He brushed his teeth, groomed his beard and combed his hair. Once he was in his bedroom he dressed himself in his boxers, t-shirt, dress shirt, pants, socks and shoes. On the outside Grissom looked like a man preparing for work but on the inside he was a man preparing for the rest of his life.

Walking up to the mirror, he gave himself a once-over, resolved that today will be the day. He was going to laugh at jokes instead of stressing about time sheets and overtime. He would let Greg pick the radio station on the way to their next case, no matter how obnoxious it may be. He'll part his knowledge again, teach and throw riddles around. He'll arrange a time with Catherine to get both shifts together for a meal – a nice one – his treat. And he'll flirt with Sara – shamelessly and honestly and _mean_ it and tell her he means it. And at the first sight of her smile, he is going to lay one on her like he means it and…

"Who am I kidding?" he groaned, closing his eyes to block out the man in front of him.

Turning on his heels, he grabbed his keys and on impulse, his leather jacket, and walked out the door.

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It was just a few hours since he woke up - both literally and figuratively. The realization of the state of his existence still resonated through him as he sat across from Sara. What started out as a discussion about work transformed into what could be described as possibly the most significant conversation of their … relationship. They had a relationship. A complicated one, she had said.

She told him that he was always more than a boss to her. That she moved to Vegas for him. That she looked for validation in inappropriate places.

What did that mean?

Validation in over-compensating? Validation in drinking? Validation in … him - as a boss? As a man?

The only inappropriate place at that moment was his office. His mind raced to come up with the right words to suggest continuing this elsewhere.

"Let's…"

But before he could put together two words from the Merrium-Webster dictionary, she cut him off by doing something amazingly selfless. She let him off the hook – and he hated it. It was hard enough working up the courage to make things better but now he was being told that he didn't have to.

His dream was mocking him in the cruelest way. Watching her walk out of his office was like watching his nightmare play out before his eyes. The roads – years and years of chances – disappearing with every step Sara took. Thoughts of running after her were quickly squelched as his mind was more befuddled now than ever. His brow furrowed, thinking that chasing after her only to stammer on like a schoolboy would hardly be impressive, perhaps even detrimental, to their already fragile connection.

Grissom tapped his finger on the scale in front of him; thinking about the conversation they just shared. She was so strong and honest and … beautiful. So beautiful. He had grossly underestimated her, her feelings and her grace and it made him physically sick.

And after absolving him of all responsibility, all blame; she gave him an out. _It's okay. Okay?_

Him not being able to utter a complete sentence in her presence is not okay. His loneliness is not okay. Her hurt is not okay. Her shouldering the responsibility of the strained state of their relationship – _definitely_ not okay.

Grissom picked up the phone and dialed her cell number, lacking the courage to find her and do this in person.

How could he tell her that the reason he asked her to Vegas was because he didn't know how not to have her in his life? Or that one stroke of her thumb on his cheek did nothing to calm his racing pulse. And how after Kaye and Pam and Suzanne, all he wanted to do was hold her close and comfort her. How do you put into words that the blissful moment he was inches from her face, her wrists trapped in his grip, was the cause for so many daydreams and fantasies? Fantasies that always had him hold and kiss her reverently. Have him deep inside her; on his couch, in his bed, over his desk and his personal favorite – on the hood of his Denali in the LVPD parking lot.

Knowing that today would not be the day for such openness, he settled for the best that he could offer. He was going to take a page out of her book and accept responsibility.

Breathing became harder with each ring and just before he was about to disconnect, her voicemail recording picked up. His sigh was somewhere between relief and frustration but in the end, determination took hold. He needed to fix his life and help her fix hers, no matter the cost and he left a message that he hoped would be the first step in making things less complicated.


End file.
